Thursday afternoon I got my first glimpse of my future son or daughter via ultrasound at the women’s centre at Darlington Memorial Hospital. I also got stabbed with a hollow needle and had my blood taken, but that is another story.
Until the moment that I saw my child I was perhaps a little too blase about being a Father. It just didn’t seem real. I couldn’t see or feel anything and it just seemed like Jenny was always tired and grouchy and there was no reason for it. Of course, I knew she was pregnant, but I’m a bloke and blokes need to see or feel stuff for it to be real.
So eventually after some hilarity surrounding the consumption of two pints of water we were in the ultrasound room. Jen was obviously in some discomfort. They say that in early pregnancy a woman is less tolerant of a full bladder. Her frequent trips to the bathroom each night are testimony to that and the result of this intolerance was a very tense and uncomfortable woman on her back on the bed awaiting a scan. It was only after she was allowed to empty herself that we were able to get a good look at the life growing within.
The picture does not do justice to the experience; neither would any words I could type or speak. I just held my breath. I was stunned. It isn’t every day you get to see your own child for the first time. If you are ever fortunate enough to be in the same position, be sure to soak up every second of the experience.
And get pictures.
